


Tobacco

by LiberaMeDelailah



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Self-Indulgent, Smoking, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 08:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11665266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiberaMeDelailah/pseuds/LiberaMeDelailah
Summary: Nicotine has a bittersweet taste; the flavor of a promised eternal sleep that is too close but too far.





	Tobacco

**Author's Note:**

> I imagined Balthier smoking and I couldn't get the idea out of my head. Also, hi! This is the first fanfiction that I've shared on this website. I'm very shy about my writings so that might be a good reason as to why. 
> 
> I think BalVaan deserves more love! So... yeah, haha.

Balthier took a puff from his cigar, while looking at the vast night sky, his sky, the one he sailed into a long time ago. Another inhalation, he so hated the taste - so sour, he thought, yet so sweet, perhaps not hate, but love - and the smell, only Gods knew why he had taken the habit of smoking from time to time. 

It was quiet, everyone, or at least almost everyone, was sleeping. Vaan, by the way his sheet moved on the ground was still, probably, awake. 

Probably, because there was also the possibility of a nightmare, and on times like those they lived in, a young man's mind could be plagued with such. He finished his cigar, hands and skin smelling like nicotine, mouth dried and throat hurting, feeling like wanting to cough, or to die. 

To die, perhaps, was a little too easy and a little too soon -Through their dance was his favorite. All too close, all too erotic.-, Balthier thought, as he knelt down besides Vaan and ruffled his hair kindly. Gods knew he would never admit to anyone his kindness, through, unbecoming of the Leading man. Vaan opened his grey eyes and looked at him, not surprised, because as Balthier suspected, he was not asleep to begin with. 

"Rough sleeping on the floor, sunshine?" The pet name 'Thief' didn't sound like a word he should use at the moment, in the calmness of the world around them, everyone sleeping, everyone tranquil. This was intimate, a conversation no one was part of but them. He could drop the masquerade, the 'niceties', there was no need to put on a show now.

"No, sleeping on the floor was never a problem for me... for us." He sat, and looked at where Penelo laid, her hair down and eyes closed, breath steady. "I don't know why I can't sleep." 

Balthier ended up following Vaan's lead, and sat besides him - kneeling was uncomfortable - depending on the situation, he could adapt, now through, it was not the case.

He looked up to see his home, the sky. "Well, a night like this one should be cherished, no? Calm, filled with stars, I'm honestly glad I got to be the lookout today, which is not something very common, let me tell you." 

"So, that was why you were smoking before? Because it was pleasant?" Balthier was surprised. He shouldn't be, really, he still smelled like Tobacco, his lips probably had a grey mark on the center, a scar of sorts that only smokers shared, and he knew Vaan was awake when he had his cigar. Nonetheless, the question itself astonished him, for it was a beautiful night, and the stars were brighter than the future of Dalmasca at the moment, and he felt calm. 

So why did he turn on that cigarette? 

He hated the flavor, the smell, the feeling, but there was something pleasant about the loneliness and the company of a lighted cigarette with a starry sky. How lovely did the smoke become as it disappeared into the oblivion and void, and how every puff as a bullet gave a hole to his lungs. It was almost poetic, maybe nostalgic. 

"I can't say, I've never thought deeply as to why I do it, it is simply something I picked from my travels." 

"You've picked some bad habits on your travels." 

"But I've picked up sights you could never begin to imagine as well, and obviously an adventure I didn't really ask to be invited to." 

"None of us, really. But it is better than been forgotten and rotting back at home."

The younger man turned his gaze to the heavens and sighed.

Balthier didn't answer, for he didn't relate. Back at home he was a man of power, but out there, sitting with Vaan, he was a man of freedom. What would you choose, if given power or freedom? Was he a different man, and probably, he would have chosen to be noble, to ignore the problems, he would've chosen blindness... But because he was the man he was, gladly, he decided for freedom, for the world, for the sights of endless horizons and stars. 

He got his box of cigarettes out of his pocket, and took one between his scarred lips. He'd only smoke more than one cigar a day on his youth, when he was tired and felt abandoned. Now he flirted with death, he liked the taste of her lips on his, and he lived as such that he was never caught by her but never left her too far behind. 

He felt Vaan's eyes on his lips as he exhaled white, and looked back at him, a soft expression on his face. Balthier looked younger, Vaan decided, when he was not trying to be a charmer. He took the hand that was holding the cigar on his, and inhaled a puff, ending in a fit of cough. No one awoke, gladly, and Balthier looked at the younger man with amusement on his eyes. 

"Try not to get yourself killed by my assassin." Balthier chuckled. "There are better ways to go." 

"I wanted to know what was it that you felt when you smoked." Vaan said, face twisted in disgust. 

It made sense, suddenly, the actions taken by the younger man. He couldn't explain with words what was it that made him want to smoke, so Vaan, as a true thief and pirate, planned to steal the truth from between Balthier's fingers so he could understand. Of course, in the end, his act only brought him even more confusion, for his expression was not pleasant.

For one slowly learns to die. 

Balthier laughed, a sound so soft it almost felt like the voice of someone else, and took Vaan's chin between his unoccupied hand. There was a smile the younger had never seen before, one that reached his eyes.

"You tempted a pirate by stealing his penalty, you should be punished." 

Vaan smiled back, his cheeks deformed under the pressure of Balthier's fingers, in a way that could only be described as adorable. 

Balthier took another puff, almost the last one, for the wind on the desert had taken upon itself to rob a good cigar from his hurt hand. After he inhaled, he moved Vaan's head so that their breathes would intertwine, and their noses came into conact. 

Their mouths almost touched, close enough for their skin to feel the tickle of a kiss. And they shared; the air of death and sorrow, regret, redemption. Vaan didn't cough, but his eyes watered at the itchy feeling he felt in his throat. Another puff, this one truly the last one, and again, they carried the burden together, mouth so close, but so far. The wind taking with it the remains of their sins, sadness, and joy.

Once the air around them cleared, and their thoughts were calm, they stared at each other with eyelashes half lifted. 

A blessed night to learn how to live.

A blessed night to learn how to die.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this piece, kinda too short. I'm writing a longer fanfic for this same paring, and I'm also writing a FFXV fanfiction, but I don't know if I'll publish those, haha.


End file.
